Bits and bobs
by deb24601
Summary: Random. Witfits and outtakes and maybe some drabbles. Rated M just in case but please check each entry for individual warnings! Thanks for reading.
1. Window (thriller)

**Word Prompt**: Window

**Scenario**: Write about the most difficult decision you've ever had to make.

Complete the scenario in any way, in any style, and for any word count. Open your mind and follow where it leads, writing as you go.

SM owns Twilight. This Edward originated in last October's witfit (three entries, Stomp, Recover and Young if you're interested) so it's funny (funny weird, not funny haha) that he popped into my head when I saw this prompt. **Rated M for language, violence and assault. **unbeta'd (be nice to me)

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The TV dinner sat untouched in front of him, greasy gravy congealing on the sorry excuse for a steak, the potatoes as cold as the rain-pelted window pane to Edward's left. He'd thought he should eat something, keep his strength up, but once the food was in front of him had found the idea revolting. The motions of cutting the food, piercing it with a fork, chewing, swallowing seemed impossible. His stomach heaved. There was no way anything would stay down.

He checked the clock and blew out a breath. That couldn't be right. But no, it was. The sun was just starting to set, not that he could tell much through the gloom of the rainclouds, but the sky was darkening, just. Hours yet. He couldn't go back to the warehouse until nine. James had said nine and Edward didn't dare defy him.

Not while James had Bella.

Edward's stomach rolled again and he cursed at himself. Maybe he _should_ call the police. James had said not to but they always said that in movies, the gangster ones, the kidnapping ones.

_Don't call the fuzz or the dame gets it._

This wasn't a movie, unreal as it all was. James was a loose cannon. Unpredictable. Dangerous. Demented.

Edward tried to think. What would James do if the police showed up? He sure as hell didn't seem the type to throw his hands up and surrender. Would he kill Bella? Edward scrubbed at his face, rubbed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the vision of Bella slumped, throat slashed, blood gushing. He shook his head. No. No, he'd have to do it himself. Bella was counting on him. He wasn't leaving her there again. James would have his money, twice what he'd originally asked for. Bella'd been in that grey, cold room for a day and a night. Too long. A day and a night too long. No more.

He shoved the foil container away in disgust. It bumped into the small handgun he'd found upstairs, sending it spinning on the table making a sound like a toy, a top spinning, until it stopped, the muzzle pointing toward Edward like a macabre version of Spin the Bottle.

In desperation, he'd gone through his parents things for the first time, he'd never had the heart to before. If they were to come back to life they would find their home, their things, exactly as they'd left them. Except for the gun Edward had found in his father's closet.

The gun changed things. James had that fucking knife-and he was deadly with it. Edward thought about the knife, the way James had wielded it at the carnival, the _oohs_ and _ahhs_ of the crowd. James had thrown again and again, the silver blade flashing as it skewered pieces of paper and rubber chickens to the thick wooden slab set up as a target. Awe-inspiring accuracy. Terrifying skill. James had invited people from the crowd to learn to throw.

"C'mere, beautiful," he'd said to Bella. She shook her head, grabbed Edward's hand and tugged. James had jeered. "What's the matter? Your old man doesn't let you do anything fun?" Edward had turned back-to do what he didn't know-and James put his hands out in that universal and timeless man gesture that says 'come and get me'. Bella pulled on Edward's arm harder and he allowed himself to be dragged away. He'd been relieved really. "Yeah, better run along," James called after them. The crowd had laughed.

A week later, that same jeering voice was on the phone.

_"Want your pretty little girlfriend back, Edward?" _

In another man's hands a knife would be a minor threat. Not James. Edward hadn't seen a gun though, neither time he'd been in the warehouse. That didn't mean James didn't have one but Edward didn't think so. James was a show off. If he had a gun he would have waved it around. No, he didn't have a gun. Edward felt a thrill of dangerous confidence possessing one himself. Now the big questions.

Could he fire it?

Could he aim and fire? Head or heart? Edward had seen that in a movie too.

Could he kill a man?

He'd never even really been in a fight, not until Bella came around anyway. Edward made a sound, a half-choked laugh that was on the verge of becoming a sob. Everything had been wild since Bella showed up. Mostly good, almost all good. He looked out the window, watched the rain lash against it. Bella had arrived like storm, exhilarating and destructive, churning up already muddy waters and inviting Edward in to skinny dip. It was ridiculous that she wanted him. Edward had to count the weeks, think carefully. Less than a month and he couldn't imagine his small world without her.

James was a psychopath. And a liar. He'd asked for five thousand and Edward had delivered that amount, twice. He'd said he wouldn't hurt her. He had.

_"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to trust a carnie, Edward?" _

Edward thought about Bella, the last time he'd seen her. Tied up to a wooden chair, gagged, shaking. Her shirt torn and James leering.

_"Now, don't look at me like that Edward. You were gone a long time. And I got bored."_

Edward's stomach didn't roll this time. There was a lead weight there now, heavy and steadying. The rain pounded on the window, rattling the pane, streaming in clear, undulating ribbons. He reached out for the gun, aimed at his watery reflection in the window.

Yes. Edward could kill a man.

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_Thanks for reading. Edward sitting at the window visual on my blog. .com or link on my profile. _


	2. Scarf (romance)

**Word Prompt**: Scarf

**Dialogue Flex**: "Do you need a ride home?" he asked.

Using the provided snippet of dialogue, explore what comes to mind, be it a scene, a thought, or something else.

_SM owns Twilight. Unbeta'd. M for a little bad language. Much, much lighter than the last one. ;) Remember, I'm not doing a story here, this is a different (and new to me!) Edward._

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The roads were deserted. All sane people were safe at home. The storm wasn't a surprise after all; they'd forecasted it nearly a week ago and the sleepy town loved nothing more than an excuse to stock up and hunker down. Edward had done the same. There was sufficient food, firewood (because the power would inevitably go out), booze (for the same reason) and books to get him through the next week or so. He'd been looking forward to a bit of peaceful solitude. He needed to clear his mind, make some decisions.

And then Rosalie called.

Fucking Rosalie. Edward sighed and peered through the windshield. Even with the wipers working full tilt the visibility was near zero. The wind shrieked and threatened to push the car right off the road.

_She says 'jump' you say 'how high?'_

Rosalie had called. She didn't want to be alone. Trouble was she'd broken up with Edward -again- and he'd vowed to himself to stop this back and forth, on and off, cluster fuck of a relationship once and for all. Five minutes on the phone though and he was sucked back in. She wasn't afraid exactly, Rose didn't fear much and wouldn't admit to the things she did. She wanted company, some romantic notion of being stranded together... Edward had stopped listening after a few minutes because he knew he was going to go.

He'd thrown wood into the trunk, packed up food because Rose never had anything he liked and the booze -they'd probably need it. They'd be fighting and making up the whole time. Edward was exhausted by the whole idea but knew he couldn't stay away. Hopeless romantic or just hopeless, Edward couldn't stay away.

A wind gust jarred the car, jolting Edward back to his predicament. The drive to Rosalie's was usually fifteen minutes. He'd been driving for thirty. It was a long, straight stretch with nothing along it but a gas station and a house that had been empty as long as anyone could remember. He was pretty sure he hadn't passed either yet but he couldn't be sure. He couldn't see more than a few feet.

A bulky black shape loomed up on the left. One minute, nothing and then there it was. Not one of the hoped for landmarks; a person, walking.

Edward tapped the brake, afraid of skidding. He rolled down the window and shuddered against the assault of icy snow and biting wind.

"Hey, do you need a ride?" he asked. He had to shout over the shriek of the freezing wind. Of course they needed a ride. This was a dangerous storm. Edward was moronic -and he knew it- to be driving in it. Walking could be deadly. This was 'frost-bite, freeze-to-death' weather.

The black bulk fumbled with the door handle and Edward leaned over to open the door from the inside. He rolled up the window as his new passenger shivered and shuddered in their seat. They'd brought the cold in with them and Edward blasted the heater. "What happened, I mean, what are you doing out there?" he asked. The shape just shivered more with big brown eyes blinking in panicked daze. Between the hat pulled low and the scarf wrapped up past her nose that was all Edward could see.

Gradually, the car warmed back up. Edward remembered his coffee. "Here," he offered. "You should probably drink this. Warm you up from the inside." He handed the travel mug to the shivering shape. A mittened hand reached for it.

"Th-th-thank you," a cracked voice stuttered with cold. She unwrapped her thick wool scarf and finally Edward could see who he'd picked up. He watched her drink the coffee thinking she was the anti-Rosalie; dark and warm looking -even when half-frozen to death- with eyes that looked kind instead of calculating. He wondered when he'd started thinking about Rose that way. As cold and hard. "Thank you," the girl said again. She shivered a bit but more in relief than cold thought Edward. The car was warm again and she took off her mittens, holding her hands up to the heating vents. "I didn't think anyone was going to come by," she paused to take another gulp of coffee and then sighed in pleasure. "I'm not sure I was going to make it. Jesus, it's cold." She seemed to notice Edward for the first time. Her eyes widened. "I'm Bella. Thank you so much."

"It's no problem," Edward put the car into drive. "I'm Edward. So, where to?" he asked. Like he could just take her anywhere. The snow was coming down even thicker, the road was going to be completely impassable within an hour. Still, Edward was determined to save this damsel in distress. He stifled a dark chuckle. He'd never realized he had a latent hero complex.

"Well, my car is back there, I slid right off the road but I don't think it's worth going back," she said.

"Definitely not, where were you headed?" Edward smiled at Bella. He hadn't seen her before, very odd in a small town. Curiosity burned but it would have to wait. They both needed to get to shelter, and quickly. Bella explained about her uncle's farm and Edward knew the place. It was five minutes away in clear weather - so maybe half an hour in this storm. The thrill of rescue was damped down.

They drove on carefully for a few minutes, talking about the sleepy town's charm, the ferocious weather and her dead phone, and Bella's plans to move in with her uncle. She spoke vaguely of the quiet, nature, the peaceful rhythm of life on a farm. Edward hung on her words. She made things sound so gentle. He liked that.

Edward made a decision. He'd take Bella to her uncle's and then he'd go home. He didn't want to ride out the storm with Rose. The spell had been broken. He only wished he had more time to get to know this Bella. Half an hour wasn't going to be enough.

The wind buffeted the car from side to side. Edward thought the turn to the farm was coming up, if only he could see, the snow was a blinding, whirling white curtain. Impossible. Bella fell silent, letting him concentrate on the snow-covered road.

There was a violent lurch and the car started to slide. Edward fought, cranking the wheel against the skid, taking his foot from the brake against all instinct to stomp on it, make the car stop. The white swirled as the car gave one full slow spin and slid elegantly into the ditch on the opposite side of the road.

Edward swore. Bella giggled.

Edward looked at her and smiled. Hadn't he just been wishing for more time with Bella?

His phone was charged and the calls were made.

Bella's uncle would make his way down and haul them out.

Rose was not to expect Edward after all. This call was vague and very short. He'd text her details later.

The car was going to get cold fast and it would be a little while before help arrived. There was really no option but to sit very, very close together while they waited.

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_Thank you for reading._


	3. Element (romance)

**Word Prompt:** Element

**Plot Generator—Binding Blurb:** In 500 words or fewer, write a blurb or a short entry about** new discoveries.**

_These two are also from last year's witfit cycle and I almost didn't post it because I'm writing this story. But let's call it a teaser, huh? I went over the word limit a bit, forgive me? SM owns Twilight. (If you want to read the first chap of this, it's called "Advice" in October 2011 witifits.)_

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I give my project one more look-over, press 'save' and close my laptop. It'll have to do. Bella's been watching a movie without me and I glance at the TV.

Whoa. That's a lot of skin. Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis are rolling around and I know the title of this movie. And I know why Bella chose it.

"It's a good idea, don't you think?" she asks. Why is she always so calm when she talks about this? She's been sitting beside me on the couch while I did homework, like a hundred times before. Except it's all different now. "Like a warm-up? I know you want to wait until Christmas, that's fine, but why not this?" She doesn't wait for an answer which is just as well. I can't talk. Bella shifts and lifts and she's straddling me, her face an inch away. "We're just a couple of kids blowing off steam. Happens all the time." I hear the challenge, I see how much she wants me to give in. As if I was going to say no. I'm a little disappointed I didn't think of this first.

I nod but add a stipulation. "Clothes stay on." My voice is choked but I'm rewarded with a Bella smile, triumph and excitement mixed with the same want I saw the day she first propositioned me. She leans forward and kisses my neck, hiding her face. The temperature in the room seems to have gone up a hundred degrees, I'm warm and Bella is doing this little rolling, squirming thing in my lap and Jesus Christ...

Bella gasps against my neck. "I can't believe you're so hard already."

I can believe it. I've had a semi all evening.

Yeah, I'm hard, painfully hard, and instinct takes over. Bella and I rock and rub together. Just a couple of kids blowing off steam. Using each other.

I want more and I kind of half-guide, half-pull her face to mine and kiss her. Hard. For all the aggression Bella puts on she lets me lead, sighing and responding, opening for me. My head spins. She's pressed all over me, we're moving together perfectly and this is so good, just like this, that I can't believe there's more. Her hands are in my hair, pulling and scratching at my scalp. I groan, so loud it vibrates between us, and Bella whimpers in return. I want to tell her that, there's more, how good it's going to be but I don't dare talk, not with the other stuff just waiting to pour out.

Beautiful Bella.

I love you.

Apparently Bella _can_ talk and is thinking along the same lines. The "more" lines, not the love. Never the love for Bella. "I can't wait for Christmas," she whispers. "I can't wait for you to be inside."

It's like the couch falls from beneath us. I'm gone.

I put my hands on her ass and pull her toward me hard. I'm grinding up against her, flexing and pushing, again and again, probably too hard but Bella seems to like it. I can feel the heat of her through her jeans, I wonder if she's wet, I bet she is, I hope she is. She's kissing me back harder now and I try to warn her, try to stop myself, but it's too late.

"Gonna..."

Come. Oh Jesus do I. I didn't even know I was capable of making that sound.

It goes on and on, I'm shaking and panting. Bella stills and holds me, her breath ragged in my ear. I'm not even embarrassed about blowing my load in my pants - that's how fucking good and spent I feel. This is the first non-solo orgasm I've ever had and I'm glad it's Bella. Even if she never wants the other stuff, if we never get together, I'm glad it's her now. I finally understand better why she's asked me to be her first. Whatever else happens between us, I want that too.

Now how do I survive the thirty-two days until Christmas?

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_The last two entries have been pretty obvious prompt to idea but this one was a little more roundabout. Element made me think of chemistry which made me think of homework which led me back to these two (they're the only teens I've written) and "new discoveries" well, ahem, same._

_Thanks for reading._


	4. Groom (romance comedy)

I don't own them. Unbeta'd. For my soulmate Annie. I saw this prompt and thought of you immediately ;)

**Word Prompt:** Groom

**Plot Generator—Binding Blurb:** In 500 words or fewer, write a blurb or a short entry about** getting down and dirty.**

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"Don't do this... please? For me?"

Edward's laughter bounces around the steamy bathroom. I narrow my eyes at him and shift on my perch atop the double sink vanity. He doesn't understand what he's doing to me.

"I have to, you know this interview is important. Stop whining about it," he says, swatting my hand away from his face, "it'll grow back." He gathers up his supplies and I sigh in defeat. I pretend to cry a little and he laughs again, readjusting the towel around his waist. I reach out and slide my fingers through his chest hair.

"At least I'll still have this," I murmur, faux sad.

"Mmmhmm," he murmurs back, wiping steam from the mirror so he can examine his perfect face. He uncaps the foam and I whimper. He beams, amused. The rat. He fills his hand with the creamy white foam and I freak out.

"Wait, wait. One more kiss," I beg. His green eyes sparkle at me and he leans in slowly.

Oh, my Edward. Always so obliging.

He cups my head - with his non-foamy hand - and kisses me, deeply. I revel in the scratch of his beard, the beard I'm about to lose, the silky roughness of those dark golden whiskers the perfect complement to the sweet smooth heat of Edward's mouth and tongue. The kiss goes on, both of us making small sounds of pleasure. We know it isn't going any further; he needs to get ready and we've just given each other a good workout in the shower. He was obliging under the spray too. My inner thighs are damn near rubbed raw. He kissed - and rubbed - every inch of me in a bittersweet farewell to his beloved beard. Edward is my favourite loofah. He's my secret beauty trick.

Okay, it's a fetish. I need help.

We're both breathless when he finally pulls away. Edward kisses my nose and then dabs shaving cream there. He turns to his terrible task.

And I watch. Awestruck and horrified at the same time.

He lathers up and grabs his razor, tilting his head back to start on his neck. The razor slides through, revealing a swath of smooth skin. He rinses the blade and repeats, over and over, and my precious is scraped away and ignobly rinsed down the drain. Edward is focused, concentrating carefully as he finishes the last of it around his mouth, takes one last swipe along his strong, square jaw. He rinses his now smooth face and towels off. He looks at me shyly.

"Will I do? It feels weird..." He runs his thumb along his cheek and I reach out to touch too.

"Come here," I whisper. Edward stands between my legs and kisses me again, smooth and damp and spicy smelling. It's every bit as wonderful. Of course.

It's Edward.

Besides, he's right.

It'll grow back.

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Thanks for reading. If you have a moment, check out the poll at the Lemonade Stand for Fic of the Week. When Will I Know is up! Whee. Link is on my profile.

How do you like _your_ Edward *coughrobcough* Beardy or smooth? There's no wrong answer, is there?


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